


Wartime dreams

by salytierra (octavaluna)



Series: Empires of the Sun [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Historical Accuracy, Human & Country Names Used, Iberian Brothers, M/M, Mild Smut, Open Relationships, Pale Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, spaport, wwi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7228963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octavaluna/pseuds/salytierra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Port always thought there was something incredibly narcissistic about finding Spain attractive</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wartime dreams

**Author's Note:**

> *emerges from finals hell*  
> Oh... _hi_

_**July 1915** _

 

“Have you seen my pants?” Antonio hangs half of his body off the mattress to look under the bed and Nicolau takes the opportunity to glide his toe over the other man’s back, making him giggle weirdly. “Stop that!”

“You seem eager to go this morning.” Portugal comments _“Do you have to go?”_ is what he doesn’t ask. But Spain understands him anyway, turning around and examining his face determinedly, somehow making him feel completely naked despite the sheets covering the middle of his body. There’s intelligence and sharpness in his eyes brought by age and experience, but also a fraction of that shine that Portugal hasn’t seen in way too long.

“I guess I can stay for a couple of days. See you off.” He says, crawling back into their nest of blankets and snuggling up to Nico, fitting their lips together in a series of lazy, wet kisses. “Unless you’d rather come to my place, keep me warm and sated, watching Europe wage another useless war around us.”

He punctuates his words with a hand traveling down Port’s abdomen and a seductive smirk on his kiss-swollen lips. Nicolau is almost tempted to say “to hell with it” and agree. He always thought there was something incredibly narcissistic about finding Spain attractive. As different as they are personality-wise they have almost identical features, but the combination of vibrant, green eyes under dark lashes and that carefully calculated head tilt to expose his neck just lulls him in, and Port leans down to kiss and suck on it, receiving a soft humming for his efforts that goes straight to his groin. As does that wandering hand, making him forget about everything and everyone for the next thirty minutes.  
He arches off the bed, moving in tandem with his lover and closes his eyes, just feeling, focusing on the sensation of being unconditionally adored. Their lips keep finding each other and parting until he feels a strong grip in his hair and Spain's hand pulling at the dark locks, adding just a little bit of edge to their sweet and tortuously intense pace.  

 

"I meant it, you know?" Antonio says afterwards, as they lay in bed with their legs intertwined. “C’mon Nicky, it’s time to have a couple of years just for ourselves now. Don’t you think?”  

Portugal snorts.

“Oh, does that mean that you are gonna finally move on and stop supplying Austria just because he batted his pretty eyelashes at you?”

Antonio cranes his neck to look at him but there’s no reproach in his eyes.

“I’ve moved on a long time ago.” _Liar._ “This is just business. A business that brings me insane amounts of profit in wartime, by the way. I’ve been supplying France and your sweetheart too, and you know we are not the best of friends.”

“I’m glad that you found your true vocation.” Nicolau rolls his eyes. “Neutrality and double-dealing.” and Spain laughs. But Nico _did_ mean it. Despite the fact that he would prefer to have his brother by his side once more, God knows they didn’t have enough chances  in history to enjoy the luxury of alliance, he’s glad to see the kid doing better, looking healthier and in a good shape, now that the mantle of a crumbling empire doesn’t hang from his shoulders anymore. He still has problems, of course. Spain's politics are a mess. But nothing compared to how it was before. 

However…

“But you know I have to go. Germany has declared war on me. I can’t back down now, and I have to help Arthur, whether he needs my contribution or not.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Antonio sighs and shifts until they are aligned just right to be in contact from head to toe. “Go play prince charming for your all-powerful princess. I’ll just be waiting for you here, then. Like a war bride.” He giggles  “I have a good feeling about this century.”

 

Portugal is still reminding him about that particular “feeling” to this day.

**Author's Note:**

> During WWI Spain remained neutral. Portugal started of as neutral but was declared war on by Germany over its African colonies, particularly Alger, that was in a very strategic location, and joined the war in 1915. 
> 
> The last phrase refers to the Spanish Influenza break (that wasn't actually Spanish, but Spain was the only country that didn't sensor the news), the Spanish Civil War and the subsequent 40+ years of dictatorship, Portugal's own dictatorial system, WWII, and everything else shitty that happened during the XXth century.  
> Please, Antonio, don't have any more "feelings"
> 
> ***
> 
> Please consider commenting and/or leaving kudos. They are wonderful ao3 features that feed the writer's starving soul  
> [I've got a tumblr](http://salytierra.tumblr.com)♥


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